


Zigzag

by Humbae



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Fluff, Gen, PWP, h/c, mush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2118525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humbae/pseuds/Humbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for:</p>
<p>"Vegard gets migraines triggered by stress. How he and Bård (and maybe the others too) deal with it, lots of brofeels and h/c, no ylvicest"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zigzag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueensJenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueensJenn/gifts).



"We got the final word from the Park Committee. We are now officially unwelcome to film the Trashcan Attack segment there."

A collective sigh ran across the room at Bård's words. The change of venue would cause a delay in their brutally tight schedule, further narrowing their margin for hitting the unyielding deadline.

"Worry not, Vegard has looked into some alternatives. Not our preferred location, but I think there's potential. Vegard?"

"Sorry?"

Bård squinted his eyes slightly in warning. Seamless teamwork was crucial in the busy autumn they were facing. As Bård had agreed to lead the meeting, he expected his brother to support him and aid him in running things smoothly. He tried not to ooze sarcasm as he replied.

"Kindly pay attention. We all need to be on the ball here if we want to make the deadline."

"I know, sorry. The Park?"

"I just said it fell through."

"Right, secondary locations." Vegard poked his tablet and brought up a lovingly constructed Excel sheet of their options, complete with contact information, available dates, distances to locations and unavoidable costs.

"I have preliminary permit for the Plaza but the Forum reps haven't replied to me yet."

"Considering how short on time we are, maybe the first option would be the safest?" Malin, the assistant director suggested. Some heads nodded in agreement.

"The Forum would be more cost efficient though," Vegard pointed out and highlighted the relevant cell on his sheet.

"Is the difference significant enough?" Bård asked. He slowly stretched his neck from side to side, trying to ease the tension building in his muscles.

"Yeah, it's..." Vegard paused and squinted at his tablet. Bård noticed his brother look slightly to the left of the screen, his line of sight somewhere on the empty table. "5000 kroner, which considering our remaining budget I'd say the wait is worth waiting for their reply to see if they reply."

For a moment, Bård lost the thread of conversation as someone asked Vegard about the basis for the costs. His brother replied, squinting at his tablet, eyes flicking rapidly across the screen. Bård recognised the peculiar behaviour: acting as if he couldn't see properly, talking in a repetitive pattern, seemingly distracted. Bård needed to get his brother out of the room before anyone else noticed.

"Right. Let's consider that as decided then. The Forum is our first choice, but if they don't give us the green light within today, we film the segment at the Plaza instead. Now was there anything else?"

Bård knew he was rushing to bring the meeting to a swift conclusion. Vegard might be too stupid to realise what was about to happen, but Bård had seen the signs too often to ignore them. His brother had the most unfortunate tendency to launch into debilitating migraine attacks when under a lot of stress. It really shouldn't come as a surprise to Bård that he seemed to be developing one now, but he still considered it an unnecessary delay that they could ill afford.

"I need to talk to you about the opening film, uhh sorry, what did we call it... project Chair," Malin said.

"What about it?" Bård kept his tone neutral and stole a glance at his brother. Vegard's gaze was directed forwards, above the heads of the people sitting opposite him. His brown eyes seemed unfocused, slowly moving to one side and snapping back to the centre, only to start the slow glide to the side again. Chasing after images only he could see, Bård reckoned. Which left him alone to deal with whatever was wrong with their opening film.

"Well," Malin paused to swallow. She took a breath, visibly gathering her courage. "We might have to film it again."

The silence that descended upon the room was deafening.

"What?" Bård asked. He lifted his right hand behind his neck and pressed the sore muscles there. He could feel the pressure building, enveloping him on all sides.

"Per and Knut did what they could, but half of the files are corrupted."

"How the fuck can something like that even happen? I mean seriously, what the fuck! Don't we have back-ups of back-ups? Why hasn't this been brought to our attention earlier?"

"Bård." Vegard's soft voice found his brother's ears and instantly brought him back to himself.

"I want a proper investigation of this. In the meantime, we'll just have to make room to re-film what we need. Book the essential people for this Sunday."

Less than enthusiastic grumbles went through the room. Bård could almost feel the strings slipping out of his fingers, unravelling everything they had accomplished so far. The pressure to keep matters organised and prioritised was nearly physical.

"I know it sucks, but what can we do? Starting a new season with no proper opening would be like..." Bård faltered, no fitting simile coming to mind. He turned to his brother to finish the sentence, but Vegard was busy looking at things that weren't there.

"It's not the proper way to do things," Bård finished. "You know you'll get compensated for it."

The faces around the table did not seem cheered up by the Sunday wages. Bård knew money wasn't the issue anyway. They were all stressed and tired. The summer may have been fantastic, riding the high of instant feedback from screaming audiences and pushing their limits as performers, but there was a price to pay. Bård didn't even want to look at the numerous to do -lists his brother had compiled for them.

"Okay, if there's nothing else..." Bård let the sentence hang, waiting for the next crisis.

Silence reigned.

"Then thank you," Bård finished and gathered his papers into a neat pile, signalling that the meeting was now over. He waited for everyone else to leave the room, nodding congenially as they passed him on their way to the door. Malin flicked her eyes to Vegard and looked at Bård, as if asking if everything was alright. Bård smiled and nodded, expression as blank as he could make it. Malin only shrugged and walked out.

After the last person left, Bård went to his brother and plucked the tablet from his unresisting fingers. Vegard slowly turned his head towards Bård, eyes not quite finding his brother's.

”Meeting's over,” Bård said, voice considerably lower and softer than before.

”Bård? I think I –”

”I know. Come on.”

Bård took his brother's arm, helping him as he stood up and supporting him as he swayed for a moment.

”Can you see anything at all?”

”A slice on the right side,” Vegard replied, words slightly slurred, and swallowed. Bård took note of the pale, pinched look about him.

Bård kept his grip tight as he guided their steps to the corridor. They were close to his intended destination: the nap room. The room had originally been outfitted as an area where employees could make private phone calls and run errands that needed to be completed during the day. Their office was bright and open with many transparent glass fixtures, but the downside was the lack of privacy. The nap room solved the problem and had been popular in its intended function.

It hadn't taken long for the nap room to evolve into wider use. Bård had been the first one to use the room for actual naps, back when his youngest was a baby and sleep had been scarce. A quick fifteen minute powernap every now and then was enough to keep the younger Ylvisåker operational and content. Soon other staff members had taken advantage of the room as well, keeping the office generally a happy, creative one. Only one person had abused the privilege and spent inordinate amounts of time slacking off. The person had not been in their service for long.

With several people using the room, its furnishings had increased as well. Where originally had stood only a desk with a computer and an armchair, there was now also an enormous sofa with a mountain of blankets and a small coffee table in front of it. The desk was still in vigorous use, but most people who popped in to talk with their physicians or negotiate loans over the phone would more likely settle down on the sofa to get comfortable while making the appointments or arguing about interest rates.

As a place of rest, the room had been prepared lovingly. The curtains over the only window in the room didn't let light through, allowing the room to be fully darkened when necessary. The thermostat on the wall controlled the temperature efficiently, catering to those who wanted to soak in the heat for a moment and to those who preferred cooler climates. The variety of textures, sizes and colours among the pillows and blankets piled on the sofa guaranteed that everyone would find something suitable.

From an outsider's point of view, the room might seem like a pointless luxury and a distraction from work. But there was also a third group who used the room. Their finance controller used it daily to take her blood sugar readings and to give herself a shot of insulin. When Malin had still been breastfeeding, she had used the privacy to pump her milk and store it in the small fridge hidden under the desk. And on occasion, the elder Ylvisåker needed the room as well.

"Almost there," Bård said, pitching his voice low. He still had his hand around Vegard's upper arm, guiding and supporting. Vegard said nothing. He had entered the quiet phase, indicative that the pain would start soon if it hadn't already. Bård pushed them forwards a little bit faster.

The nap room was blessedly empty. Bård guided his brother to the sofa and watched as he sat down, evaluating how far into the migraine attack he already was. Judging by the careful way Vegard folded himself on the soft surface, trying not to let his head move a single inch, it didn't look good.

"Key?" Bård whispered, earning a cringe from the older brother. Vegard dug a keychain from his pocket and handed it over without opening his tightly scrunched eyes. He pressed his head against a pillow, curling into a small ball on the sofa.

Bård took the delicate metal ring with several keys and a miniature plastic airplane and stepped quietly to the desk, opening the middle drawer. The people who regularly needed the room had their own drawers where they could store relevant items like medication safely locked away.

"Pill okay?" Bård asked as he took the correct package out.

Vegard only grunted in reply, but Bård was familiar with his brother's mode of communication and took the grunt to be affirmative. They'd had entire conversations without words, conveying a wide range of emotions in guttural exhalations.

“Oh fuck, I'll get some water,” Bård whispered as he realised there was none in the room. “Will you be okay?”

Vegard groaned in reply, only this time it was a more hesitant utterance. Bård looked around the room and located a rubbish bin. He set it on the floor by his brother's head and exited into the corridor to jog to the kitchen, being careful not to bang the door as he closed it behind himself. He hoped the nausea wouldn't be bad this time as he had no desire to deal with that mess, but he wasn't overly optimistic.

*****

Bård entered the small white room behind a glass door. Calle and Magnus were sitting in the kitchen, laughing at something one of them had said moments earlier. They greeted Bård enthusiastically, welcoming him to join the jovial moment. Calle noticed first that Bård seemed slightly out of sorts when the younger man all but ignored them and pounced on the fridge instead, looking for a bottle of water he could appropriate.

“Everything okay?” Calle asked. Magnus quieted next to the shorter man and turned his gaze on Bård as well.

“Yeah, it's just...” Bård didn't finish his sentence. Calle and Magnus waited. Bård kept rummaging around in the fridge.

“What?” Calle finally asked.

“How do we not have any water in here?” Bård huffed as his search left him empty-handed.

“There's the tap, glasses are in the cupboard. What the hell is wrong?”

Bård opened the indicated door and took out a clear glass. He proceeded to the tap, turned the faucet as cold as it would go and waited for the water to cool, poking his fingers through the stream to feel the change in temperature when it would occur, appearing consumed in the simple task.

“Bård,” Calle said, stern but not unkind.

“Nah, it's just Vegard and his stupid head.”

Calle and Magnus nodded in comprehension.

“Bad yet?” Calle asked.

“Just started.”

“Need a hand?”

“No, I've got it,” Bård said with a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

Calle backed off. Both brothers were his good friends, but when they were worried about each other, he knew it was best to steer clear off their path.

The first time Calle had witnessed a full-blown attack had been in their last year of upper secondary school. It was exam week, everyone was stressed and trying to cram as much information in their heads as they could. Calle and Vegard had been sitting outside on the lawn behind the school, each studying for a different subject. Suddenly Vegard had let his book fall from his lap, blinking and not really looking at anything. Calle had tried to ask what was wrong but Vegard's attempts at speech proved unsuccessful. Worried that his friend was having a stroke or worse, Calle had dragged him to the school nurse. That day he learned all he needed to know about migraines.

Calle still shuddered at the memory. The fierce wave of protectiveness that had enveloped him that day had almost scared him in its intensity. He had always known he was fond of his friends, but to find that deep well of emotion in himself had been distressing. He didn't think he treated Vegard any differently after the event, but the knowledge was always at the back of his mind, to keep an eye out.

“So did you decide yet?” Calle asked and turned to Magnus. The tall man was probably a little bit confused about the situation, being a more recent addition to the circle of friends, but he took Calle's cue swiftly.

“I think I feel like Chinese today.”

“Wall or Dragon?”

The two continued their heated discussion of where to eat lunch. Bård was finally satisfied with the temperature of the water and filled the glass. He marched out of the kitchen without a word, not wanting to linger uselessly, yet understanding that he had taken more time to complete the simple task than he strictly needed.

*****

When Bård returned to the nap room, he found his trip to have been in vain: Vegard was leaned over the trash can, panting. Bård tried not to breathe in through his nose.

“It's okay, I'll get your spray,” Bård said, not remembering to mind his volume. Vegard rolled onto his side and put a shaking hand over his ear, eyes scrunched shut.

Bård carefully set the glass of water down and rummaged around in the drawer. He was hoping the rapid advancement of the migraine attack would mean it would also run its course swiftly, but knowing their luck, it wouldn't. The timing couldn't have been much worse. With so much left to sort out and organise and film and prepare before their deadline, even an hour's delay was devastating. Bård tried not to feel bitter as he anticipated how much extra work would fall on him.

“Here,” Bård whispered and pried Vegard's hand off the side of his skull. The older brother whimpered under his breath, reminding Bård to be more careful. “Come on, medication's here.”

Bård placed the small single-use nasal spray in Vegard's hand and helped him lift his head a bit to get it in properly. The urge to prattle soothing nonsense tugged at Bård, but he resisted it.

“You're useless,” Bård said and plucked the empty container from his brother's limp fingers. He dropped it in the bin, squeezing his mouth into a tight line at the disgusting splash it made. “They should give me a fucking medal for putting up with your shit.”

Vegard lied still, breathing in slow, controlled pants. Bård made sure the bin by the sofa was correctly positioned below his head. He backed away and set the thermostat lower to cool the room. He would have half an hour to work on his presentation for the next meeting. Bård hadn't really prepared properly and would welcome the quiet moment. He knew he could've left to work in his own office, but instead he sat down on the chair and turned on the computer in the room.

For a moment, Bård considered cancelling the whole meeting. It wasn't a realistic option: they would start filming the segment on the following morning and everything had to be prepared before it. Vegard wasn't essential in the project as it was for Bård and Calle, but he had been helping with the music. Bård would've preferred to have his brother participating in the meeting, if only for the calculations and schedules Bård knew he was hiding in his tablet. For the millionth time during their mad scramble to finish everything before the new season started, Bård blessed Vegard's obsession with Excel sheets and information gathering.

Half an hour flew past. Bård saved his file on their shared network drive and turned off the computer with a curse. He would just have to improvise the rest and pretend he knew exactly what he was talking about. He turned to look at Vegard, noting with surprise that his brother wasn't asleep like he had assumed. He was lying on his side, misery etched into the lines on his face.

“Hey,” Bård whispered. Vegard didn't acknowledge him but Bård believed he was listening anyway. “I have to go now. Your phone's in your pocket.” Bård patted his brother's muscular thigh to make sure the flat item was there. “Just call me if you need me. You don't have to say anything, I won't even answer, just make it ring and I'll come running. Okay?”

Bård waited for an answer. He knew that Vegard was in a place where everything hurt, but he needed to know that his brother was aware of his surroundings at least. He didn't want to return to the room just to find his brother choked in his own vomit or something.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” It was barely even a whisper, more of a loud sigh, but Bård accepted it.

“Back soon,” he promised and left.

*****

The meeting turned out to be a disaster. Bård had severely under-estimated the amount of information that was needed for the planning of the segment. He didn't have a timetable for the shoot, his calculations for the costs were off and he had forgotten to check the camera crew's availability. His only consolation was Calle who stood steadfastly by his side and tried to cover up for his friend's ill-preparedness.

Bård felt shame burn his cheeks. All his mistakes were basic: things that he should know and be prepared for. He decided it must be the stress getting to him. With too many things to do, details started slipping away. He kept forgetting what he had already done and what needed doing. Even Vegard's precious Excel sheets didn't help when Bård forgot to update them after accomplishing a task.

“Maybe you should drive Vegard home and take the rest of the day off?” Calle suggested after the meeting had been officially adjourned and they were walking down the corridor.

Bård blinked and looked at his friend. The pain radiating from his neck was increasing in intensity and Bård yearned for Calle's scenario.

“Are you kidding? It's lunch time, there's still half the day to go through.” Bård knew his statement was inaccurate. This close to the deadline, they were working late each night, stumbling home well after dark. The day was not half-way through yet.

“We have everything under control. And we can improvise the rest, you can take one afternoon off.”

“Did you hear that we have to re-film the opening clip?”

“Not a problem, we have the script and remember how it went, just a matter of doing it again. Hell, we might even improve it.”

Bård glared at his friend. Calle's comforting logic was not what Bård needed to hear. His resolve was close to crumbling, it couldn't last in the face of the gentle attacks.

“Where are you going anyway?” Bård asked as he stopped in front of the nap room's door and Calle stopped next to him.

“Giving you a hand.”

“I don't need a hand.”

“You'll get one anyway.”

The friends looked at each other for a moment. There was challenge in Calle's eyes. Bård met it head-on, refusing to give in. As the blue eyes under the blonde fringe softened, Bård found it impossible to remain steadfast.

“Fine,” he muttered and opened the door.

“Vegard?” Bård asked although it was blatantly obvious that the room was empty. Calle came to stand next to him, a sturdy, solid presence despite his slim figure.

“Maybe he wandered off? He's pretty out of it during these right?”

“No, not after the pain starts. He can't fucking move then.”

Bård couldn't think of any reasonable explanations. His head was utterly blank in the unexpected situation. His skills in improvisation proved useless and all he could do was stare at the empty sofa.

“Excuse me,” a woman said behind them. Bård and Calle turned around and saw Malin enter the room, trash can in hands. As she passed the men, she understood what they were staring at.

“Where'd he go?” Malin asked.

“Were you here?” Bård grabbed her arm and focussed his blue gaze on her, searching for an answer on her face.

“Yeah, I popped in to see if Vegard needed anything, saw him looking a bit absent at the meeting earlier. He was here then, not looking good at all. I went to empty and clean this,” she indicated the still wet rubbish bin, “and now he's gone. It all took me maybe five minutes.”

“Fuck,” Bård said quietly and let go of the assistant director's arm. She frowned at him and rubbed the sore spot.

“His face was though...” Malin let the sentence hang.

“What?” Bård snapped.

“You know how pain wears you down? It's all around the eyes. He had the look of one who couldn't bear it anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Calle asked since Bård seemed too upset to demand clarification.

“I'm saying the entrance to the roof is just across the hall.”

Before Calle had time to declare Malin's theory wildly unlikely, Bård had already dashed out of the room. The young man ran with desperation speeding his steps, heart pounding. He pulled the door to the roof open and took three steps at a time climbing the flight of stairs. He felt like his lungs were inadequate and his heart seemed to be thumping through his entire body. Bård was out of breath by the time he wrenched the door open.

The roof was empty.

Bård ran across the rectangular area, peeking down over the ledge on each side. He barely heard Calle join him over his own ragged panting.

“Bård, calm down!”

Bård stopped his frantic rushing and stood still.

“You don't seriously think Vegard would do such a thing? Come on.”

“I know. It's just...”

“What?”

“Well where the hell is he?”

Calle sensed that Bård had been about to say something important but had changed the subject before he could. He made a mental note to bother the younger man about it later.

“Maybe he felt better? How about we check his office before literally rushing off to unlikely assumptions.”

Bård shook his head. Judging by Malin's estimate, Vegard had not recovered yet. Checking the office would give him something to do though, so he conceded and followed Calle down the stairs. They walked along the corridor in silence, only stopping to peek inside the nap room to make sure it was still empty. Vegard's office proved to be equally void of short curly-haired men.

“What the fuck”, was all Bård could say after he and Calle had re-located to Bård's office to have a think. They had called Vegard's phone but it hadn't been picked up.

“I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation.”

The glare Bård directed at his friend hinted that Calle was full of shit and should stop trying to comfort him like a child. The stare Calle levelled at him in response messaged that he had no intentions of backing off.

“I'll call Magnus, maybe he's seen something.”

The prospect of inviting more people into the situation didn't appeal to Bård. Magnus was aware of what was happening – the entire office probably was by now – but Bård knew Vegard preferred to keep his weaknesses private. Trying to protest would've been pointless though, since Calle was already asking Magnus where he was. The large man promised to come over in a minute.

Calle and Bård sat in silence while they waited. A thin beam of sunlight ran across the room, giving the cream-coloured floor a blinding highlight. Calle looked at it. Most people in the office would be having lunch, either downstairs in the building's small cafe or in various restaurants within walking distance. He would have to drag Bård to eat at some point, the young man had a habit of skipping meals when stressed. And judging by the way Bård was grimacing and rubbing his neck, he was severely in need of a break.

”It'll be fine,” Calle said, mainly to break the silence.

”Oh cut the crap.”

”Hey,” Magnus greeted as he stepped into the room without knocking.

At first he thought the others were playing a practical joke on him, but he could soon sense that their distress was real. The three made a swift plan to go through every area in the office and meet again in Bård's room if they were unsuccessful in their search.

With a feeling of dull disbelief and flaring panic, Bård started going through the western side of the building. He tried calling his brother's phone again, but received no answer. It rang until it disconnected, so at least the phone was still on. Bård wasn't much cheered up by the fact.

After finding another empty room, Bård continued to an occupied meeting room. The people looked at him in alarm as he pulled the door open, but Bård simply registered the people, told them to carry on and left. He would probably regret his haste later and admonish himself for not coming up with an excuse, but for the moment all he could think of was the agonised look on Vegard's face as he had left him.

*****

When Bård returned to his office after the failure to locate his brother, he was met with an intoxicating scent. What appeared to be a small picnic was spread out on his table.

“No luck in the cafe, but I brought souvenirs,” Calle explained.

Bård had no desire to waste time eating, but he did feel emptiness in his stomach and an unpleasant hollowness from hunger.

“Grab a sandwich while we tell you what we found out,” Calle said and nudged a neatly wrapped roll closer to Bård. The younger man took it almost unwittingly.

“I found nothing, but Malin thinks she remembers seeing a janitor in the corridor when she left the nap room, when Vegard was still definitely in it,” Magnus said, dropping his voice low.

“A janitor?”

“Think about it, what would a janitor be doing there in the middle of the day. And Malin said he was just standing there, looking at her. Creeped her out, as she said.”

“Are you seriously telling us you think the janitor kidnapped Vegard?” Calle asked, radiating incredulity.

“It's not impossible.”

“Yes it is,” Bård snapped and paused to swallow. “We have to look for real, likely explanations. You read too much crap.”

Magnus quieted. He thought he'd had an actual lead that might help solve the mystery. Slipping into thinking what kind of a situation Harry Hole might encounter was easier than admitting that his entire being was alight with the worry for Vegard. The large man lapsed into silence and bit into a sandwich while Calle told of his nonexistent findings.

The first time Magnus had found out about Vegard's condition had been soon after the tall man had joined the writer team for the talk show. He had been working late, still eager to impress his employers with his unyielding work ethic. And he only had a long bath to look forward to at home.

He had been on his way back from the toilet, promising himself that he would write half a page, no matter the quality, and then go home and edit it later, when he turned a corner and noticed someone in the corridor. Magnus was alarmed and approached the person with caution. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall sideways, gripping his head with both hands. Magnus didn't need to see the face to recognise the small man with dark curls as Vegard Ylvisåker.

“You okay?” he had asked.

“Yeah,” Vegard had replied, although everything in his tone and hunched position screamed the opposite.

Magnus had stood there uselessly for a moment, unsure of the situation. He didn't dare take too many liberties with someone who was so far above him in the food chain, but the man was clearly in pain. When he whimpered and curled into an even smaller ball, Magnus knew he couldn't just ignore him. He sat down on the floor next to the smaller man and gently guided him to lean against the soft mass that was Magnus' chest rather than the hard wall. Vegard seemed to relax minutely as he snuggled closer to the warmth.

Five minutes later he had thrown up in Magnus' lap and that was when the young man knew they would be friends for life.

“Let's try calling his phone again,” Calle suggested and pulled Magnus back to the present. The large man took another bite from his sandwich and waited with the others to see what would happen.

“At least it's ringing,” Calle noted. Bård failed to see any reason for optimism in that.

“Maybe we could try locat- hello!”

Magnus and Bård looked at Calle with open mouths, all food forgotten.

“Yes, I do know the owner of that phone. Where is he?”

Bård motioned for Calle to hand his phone over, but Calle waved the younger man off.

“No, he's not under any influence, it's a neurological condition. So where are you exactly?” Calle asked and mimed writing in the air. Bård grabbed the nearest pen and paper from his desk and slipped them in front of the blonde man. He watched as Calle wrote down the address. It was nearly a kilometre from their office.

“Okay, can you stay with him until we get there? Excellent, we'll be there in five minutes. Thank you very much!”

Calle hung up. Not a word needed to be said. All three abandoned their food and stood up. It took them roughly a minute to exit the building and to find Calle's car. Bård wanted to drive but was firmly told to sit his ass down in the backseat. Calle pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the given address with a bit more speed than was strictly necessary.

“Did he say the number?” Bård asked after they found the correct street but saw no sign of anyone on it.

“No, just in front of – there!” Calle said and pointed at a white building between two red ones. In front of it they saw a tall, thin boy in his late teens or early twenties, standing protectively over a shorter man who was sitting on the ground, eyes closed and leaning against the white building.

Calle parked the car, not entirely legally, and all three got out.

“Hello, we talked on the phone,” Calle greeted the boy. He nodded in reply.

“He's been quiet for the last fifteen minutes or so. Seemed pretty out of it before that,” the boy told them.

Bård knelt next to his brother and cautiously put a hand on his shoulder.

“Damn lucky I noticed him when I did,” the boy said and all three men directed their gaze on him.

The boy proceeded to describe how he had walked down the street, just minding his own business, when he noticed someone walking towards him, staggering unsteadily. The boy had decided that the person was a drunkard, although an unusually well-dressed and clean one, when the man had stepped off the pavement and into the traffic. The boy had run to grab the man and pulled him back to safety before any of the cars could hit him.

Bård's eyes widened in alarm and he squeezed his brother's shoulder a bit harder.

“What the hell were you doing, you idiot?” He hissed, not expecting an answer.

“Bård?” Vegard whispered. “Where are we?”

“You wandered off and nearly got yourself killed! What the fuck were you doing?”

“I don't know,” Vegard mumbled. He had one hand pressed firmly against his forehead and the other one hugging his knees.

“Let's get you home,” Magnus said and gently plucked Bård's hand off his brother's shoulder. The tall man proceeded to pick Vegard up, trying to jostle him as little as possible. Vegard clutched Magnus' shirt front and grimaced.

Calle was talking to the boy, thanking him profusely. The boy hadn't recognised Vegard, but when faced with the entire group, he suddenly realised who they were. Calle begged him not to tell anyone about the encounter, but he knew it would be all over the media soon, despite the boy's reassurances that he would keep the information to himself.

Magnus and Bård carried Vegard to the backseat of the car and belted him in place. Calle took it as his cue to leave and left the boy with one last 'thank you' thrown over his shoulder.

“Where to?” Calle asked after everyone was seated.

“Vegard's place,” Bård said.

“Shouldn't we take him to get checked out?” Magnus suggested.

Bård considered it for a moment. He had never seen Vegard be this disoriented during an attack, especially after the aura phase had already faded. But he also knew of Vegard's aversion to hospitals and unwillingness to admit anything was wrong with him, even when there clearly was a problem.

“Nah, home is fine. Under supervision,” Bård added and looked at his brother. Vegard seemed to be radiating agony, apparent in the pained look on his face and the hunched stiffness of his shoulders. He needed to be lying down in cool darkness, not to be taken to places he didn't want to go to.

“Sure thing,” Calle agreed and directed them towards the outskirts of Oslo. Luckily, the drive wasn't long, as Calle didn't want to risk the interior of his car anymore than he had to.

The first thing Bård noticed when Calle turned to the yard was the absence of Vegard's wife's small green car. The house was also dark, no light from within breaking the dim autumn day.

“I'll stay with him,” Bård announced, surprising no one.

“Vegard,” he prodded his brother on the shoulder. “Think you can walk?”

His reply was something between a sob and a moan.

Magnus opened his seat belt and came around to the back. Gently he gathered the smaller man in his arms and headed towards the house. Bård gave Calle a quick nod of thanks and followed. He hated the sight of his brother in Magnus' arms. It made Vegard look even smaller than he was and frighteningly fragile.

Bård dug out his keys and let Magnus in. He had visited his brother's house often enough that he didn't feel weird or uncomfortable stepping in when no one was home. He directed Magnus straight to the bedroom and turned his eyes away as the large man set Vegard down.

“I'll let myself out,” Magnus whispered. “Don't worry about anything, me and Calle will sort things out at the office.”

Bård paused. He hadn't even thought about all the unfinished business he needed to attend to. Vegard's laptop and tablet were at the office and Bård couldn't access the network drives with his phone. He'd only have his email to work with.

“I said we'll handle it,” Magnus reminded. “Just relax for the rest of the day.”

A stinging retort was tickling Bård's lips, but he ended up only nodding instead. Maybe he could afford one afternoon of doing nothing. The guilt and the need to contribute were strong but he made a conscious decision to let go.

“Sure, you underlings can take over,” Bård conceded. The snort Magnus released hinted that he understood the older man's masked gratitude.

“See you tomorrow!” Magnus shouted from the door. Bård listened to the following silence for a moment.

“Awake?” he whispered.

No reply.

Bård crept closer and removed his brother's shoes. Vegard didn't stir. Bård observed him for a moment and came to the conclusion that he was finally asleep. The younger brother pulled the curtains closed and relocated to the kitchen to raid the fridge. As the worry and the anxiety were starting to recede, Bård realised that he'd only had half a sandwich since breakfast and it was long past lunch time.

It was funny how he could not notice how hungry he was for most of the day and then in one moment be hit with it at full blast. But he had been preoccupied. Bård paused his rummaging for a moment. Had the boy not noticed Vegard when he did, had his brother stepped right in front of a car... Bård squeezed his eyes shut. It would've been on him. He had left Vegard alone when he knew he was helpless. Even Magnus' kidnapping janitor scenario felt horrifically plausible. If someone had wanted to hurt Vegard when he was alone, he could've done so with no one there to stop him.

“You're insane!” Bård told himself. Kidnapping janitors... what next, human-sized insects would descend from the heavens and dance polka? Blue eyes widened and Bård scrambled to find writing implements. A new segment for their show was forming in his head and everything else faded away. Maybe they could toss Vegard on a giant trampoline in a bee suit or something, get some good screams out of him.

Bård sneaked back to the bedroom to see if Vegard needed anything. The older brother was still asleep in the exact same position Bård had left him. Smiling to himself, Bård returned to the kitchen. He guessed he was a little shaken when he realised he was aimlessly zigzagging through the house. All was fine and everyone was alright, but still Bård had a feeling of threat looming above him.

All was well now, but what about the next time? Had Bård slipped with his priorities? He knew Vegard wasn't good at asking for help, even when he desperately needed it. But he was also a grown man, capable of taking care of himself.

Bård snorted aloud. Vegard was so excellent at taking care of himself that he'd nearly been smashed by a car that day. Bård was overcome by a wave of affection. He loved his career and what he did, but it could all go straight to hell if it jeopardised what was truly important in life. And suddenly it was easy to let go for one day.

He was right where he wanted to be.


End file.
